


Yakin

by chronicAngel



Category: DCU, Naruto
Genre: Alcohol, Alright y'all here it is, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Batman References, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, F/M, POV Third Person, The 100th fic I've been dreading, Uchiha Sasuke is Batman, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13458603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicAngel
Summary: Night job is a light way of putting it.





	Yakin

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a lot of overwhelming support on my work, so writing my 100th fic felt like such a huge milestone and I was really dreading getting here. But I've talked to so many of my friends about what I could do for it (another thing that I was dreading about it) and I think that this crossover, which is something I've wanted to do for so long, is a pretty good embodiment of everything that I've been working on this year. That said, I really hope you guys like this idea as much as I do! (I don't really talk about it much, but this does take place in the DC Universe that we know and love.)

His whole life, he has been unable to stop telling himself that he should have been there.

The night that his family was murdered was cold. It's a detail that he can't forget, and it sends shivers up his spine to think about. _I should have considered it an omen_ , he jokes later in his life, but the wound is still too fresh and he doesn't try very hard to fake smiles if he's not at an overly publicized event anymore. He had thought, once, that it would be expected of him to wear that sort of mask. He'd dreaded it, regularly avoiding associating with people even after his travels around the world when he settled back into the city where his family was ripped away from him despite his still-lingering wanderlust.

He'd been enrolled in aikidō almost as long as he could remember, attending the same dojo as his older brother (and the same dojo as the rest of their now-deceased family) and always striving to achieve the same greatness as him, but had quickly grown frustrated when it became clear he had nothing more to learn from the place at as young an age as 12, only four years after the massacre. He'd left Konoha without a second thought, leaving the family company temporarily in the hands of Hatake Kakashi, who had once known his older cousin and was the only person he could trust not to let the company tank, if only because he was too outwardly lazy and inwardly intelligent to do anything too dumb.

The next years were spent refining his taidō and kenjutsu under martial arts master Yashagorō Orochimaru, one of the three renowned so-called Sannin for his knowledge and prowess in the realm of mixed martial arts. When he turned 15, he left the familiar environment of Japan, going to China to study under the renowned chitō-ryū champion Rock Lee, who he learned was only his age, and getting additional lessons in kung fu and Bujinkan from Lee's friend Tiantian, daughter of two world-renowned martial artists, whose name he'd found was more often affectionately shortened to Tenten than actually said properly. He had stayed in China for two years before he left with a begrudging respect for the pair and a promise to tell Japanese and apparently Konoha-native Maito Gai "hello" when he finally returned home, which wouldn't happen for another eight years as he continued to travel the world and train in every aspect that he could.

His next destination was the Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology in Daejeon, South Korea, where he studied analysis and, more specifically, predicting an opponent's movement under Nara Shikaku, as well as obtaining his Associate's degree in Business Management. Afterward, he'd taken the advice of Shikaku's son Shikamaru and followed the Yamanaka family to France, though both the Nara and Yamanaka families were, strangely, also native to Konoha, Japan. Spending another two years in France, he had grit his teeth through Yamanaka Ino's flirting to learn about psychology from her father Inoichi and finished obtaining his Master's degree in Business Management from INSEAD.

Unable to avoid it any longer, he'd returned home to Konoha to reclaim his family's company and begin his mission.

That leaves him here. 26-years-old and back in Konoha for only a year, drumming his fingers impatiently on the surface of his desk. Akimichi Chōji, the newest CEO of Akimichi Biosynthetics, is late for the annual Four Company Meeting, and Aburame Shibi avoids the reporters swarming the door outside like the plague while Hyūga Hiashi complains lowly in Sasuke's ear, which isn't helping his growing migraine. He'd rather be anywhere else in the world right now.

Finally, twenty minutes after they were supposed to get started, the door swings open to reveal the large man, who takes a seat while dabbing at his chin with a yellowish napkin. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. I had a lunch appointment that ran late."

"You took a lunch appointment on the day of the FC Meeting when you knew it was going to start at 3:00?" Sasuke doesn't mean for his tone to come out so cool, but can't find it in himself to feel particularly sorry, either.

"It was important," the jolly man offers without any sort of elaboration, and the Uchiha doesn't ask. It's hard for him to believe that this person is in charge of a company as big and important to their city as Akimichi Biosynthetics, and harder still for him to believe that he received glowing praise from both Nara Shikaku and Yamanaka Inoichi when Sasuke was training with them.

The FC Meeting, something that Sasuke had accepted while still in business school would become a necessary annoyance in his life, is a two-hour annual meeting between the four biggest tech companies in Konoha. One hour is spent talking to each other about upcoming releases and projects to avoid copies and subsequent lawsuits with the unspoken assumption that designs won't be stolen, and one hour then spent taking questions and comments from the reporters and other citizens of the city. This is Sasuke's second one, his first taking place only a month after he'd first reclaimed the title of company head, and the more cruel part of him is tempted to throw Akimichi Chōji to the sharks the way he was at his own first meeting.

He chooses not to because Chōji has, in the end, cut twenty minutes of boring financial discussion off of the beginning of this meeting. That doesn't mean that he doesn't still have to sit through forty minutes of Shibi and Hiashi discussing the benefits of working together on a new model of drone to install for better security in buildings so they might be able to compete with the recently expanding Wind Shadow Security from South Korea, though. Sasuke has a meeting scheduled with their young (he says young, but what he means is relatively young when compared with most of the old and experienced men and women in their profession) CEO Gaara and his two siblings/advisors tomorrow evening after the afternoon's board meeting that he's been simultaneously dreading and looking forward to.

While the first forty minutes are something he just has to sit there and look somewhat engaging for, the last hour of the meeting is something he has to actively endure as he is bombarded with questions from reporters and newcomers to the tech world alike.

"Are the four of you planning any meetings with the founder of the new company Orange Maelstrom Electronics?" Calls a man from the back, and Sasuke buries his face in his hands at the reminder of the blond idiot.

Hiashi answers before Sasuke has the opportunity to dismiss the question. "I believe Uchiha-shachō met with the man over lunch last week, didn't you?"

He can feel the older man's look without lifting his face from his palms, and he has to try very hard to stifle a groan. "I did."

He expects further questioning from the reporter, but when he lifts his head he sees a woman with outlandishly bright pink hair and fierce green eyes has made her way to the front of the room where people other than reporters have been directed to ask their questions. "I have a question for the CEO of Uchiha Nanotechnology," she says, her tone indicating an anger he doesn't think he's earned. Something about her demeanor inclines him to listen to her even when he is sure she can't have anything to contribute to the meeting. "Why is it that you've expanded into every branch of nanotechnology except for nanomedicine and nanotoxicology? Is public health that unimportant to you?"

"I hardly think that's--" Shibi starts, but Sasuke cuts him off, "That's a valid question." The three other men around him look bewildered, but he maintains his calm expression as he continues, "It's not our top priority right now. While Uchiha Nanotechnology has been rapidly expanding into various materials, studies, and applications, it's important to remember that Uchiha Nanotechnology was only founded 20 years ago by my father, Uchiha Fugaku, and is still only a branch of the parent company Uchiha Industries, which largely focused on weapons and security technology before the expansion in the late 90s. While we would love to spend more time researching nanomedicine, we wouldn't want to step on any toes at Nara Laboratories, who just received loans from Uchiha Industries and Akimichi Biosynthetics to expand from pharmaceuticals to research genetic engineering and nanomedicine on their own. Isn't that right, Chōji?" He glances over at the other man, forcing his tone to be less annoyed than he feels at the accusation. The Akimichi nods emphatically. "Are there any other questions?"

"Yes, actually," the pink-haired woman says, her eyes still bright. He narrows his own eyes at her, gesturing for her to continue speaking, and she just scoffs as though saying _I wasn't asking for your permission to go on_. "You never addressed my question about nanotoxicology research. And, if Nara Laboratories is expanding from pharmaceuticals to genetic engineering and nanomedicine what repercussions is that going to have on production of medications?"

Surprisingly, Hiashi saves him. "Unfortunately, Ms...?" _Haruno_ , Sasuke thinks he hears her huff, confirmed when Hiashi continues, "Ms. Haruno, we don't have time to answer questions from only one person. If you still want answers by the end of the meeting, you can contact Uchiha-shachō's secretary and schedule an appointment."

That's not what happens.

The meeting finally ends half an hour later, and Sasuke lets his fellow CEOs drag him out for drinks. Normally, he isn't one for alcohol, as he is a notorious lightweight and has better things to do, but he's still struggling to get the pink-haired woman's words out of his head when the FC Meeting comes to a close and Chōji of all people convinces him that one drink can't possibly be so bad. He agrees because that's what a normal person would do and he can't think of any reason that he'll live to regret it other than Hiashi's usual persistent attempts at matchmaking between Sasuke and his eldest.

"She's a lot like her mother when we first met," he says, soberer than Sasuke would be at a fourth drink. Unlike a TV comedy, though, Sasuke has kept to his word and only had one as opposed to letting them talk him into multiple. "I have to drive home," he had excused. Hiashi continues, "Quiet. Nice."

When he just raises his eyebrows, Shibi must take it as a negative because he says, "You have to get married at some point, Uchiha-san." The relatively informal honorific hammers in how much Aburame overestimates their relationship, or else hammers in how much he has had to drink. "You need an heir to your company." He flinches at the words and finds that his arm has been grabbed and he's being dragged off before he can respond. The only reason he doesn't attack on instinct is that he's in public.

He turns to see bubblegum hair and a semi-formal red dress with white accents. "You again," he says, incredulous, and lets himself get pushed into a booth in the corner of the izakaya if only because he is somewhat interested in what the woman has to say. Her green eyes remind him of flower buds in the spring, and her hair reminds him of their petals when they blossom. Nothing about her seems to wilt.

"Me again," she confirms and stares at him like she's searching for something. The moment lasts a heartbeat, and then she's blasting full force ahead, straight to the point. "I want to know why you avoided answering about nanotoxicology research. What's your horrible secret?"

He scoffs at the phrase "horrible secret," like she expects him to reveal that he's some sort of supervillain. _Well, not a villain_. "No horrible secret." She continues to stare at him with those shockingly green eyes, and something stirs in his gut. He forces his gaze to the table that rests between them. "What are you, a reporter? I'll tell you why I avoided the question if you'll tell me why you're so interested in the answer." Multiple scenarios play out in his head. The most sensible keeps repeating, the possibility that someone she loved (or loves) was exposed to toxic nanomaterials and now they're dead or dying.

Her eyes flick over his face for a moment, and then she slumps in defeat. "I'm a doctor."

"And?" He coughs out, and he doesn't think about it first. That idea seems completely ridiculous to him.

"What do you mean, And? Nanomedicine would be a huge advancement in my field, but as a doctor, it's my top priority to make sure the materials and medications that I'm using are safe! The idea of actively targeting harmful cells that cause sickness is a huge step for science, and could be the answer to things we haven't found cures for like cancer and human immunodeficiency virus, but if it's hurting patients then what's even the point? So we can get them sicker?"

He watches her in fascination, and after a moment she seems to realize that she's rambling because she flushes under his scrutiny. He rubs at his face with one hand and pauses a moment to consider her. Now that he's closer to her, and now that he's more focused, he can see the little details he didn't pick up before: there are light bags under her eyes, poorly concealed with make-up. Her nails are chewed short. There's a small purple rhombus on her forehead, and he considers asking about it for a moment.

"You want to know why I wouldn't answer your question at the FC Meeting?" He offers after a minute, and she immediately nods vigorously, all energy for a person who has as many signs of exhaustion as her. "I was guilty," he mutters and doesn't understand why he's offering that information to her. She looks as confused as he feels, but he cuts her off before she can open her mouth again. "Nanomedicine and nanotoxicology are both important fields to study. I should be funneling all or most of the budget for Uchiha Nanotechnology into research for that, but instead, we're focusing on researching piezoelectric nanofibers."

She doesn't offer him sympathy like someone else might; she doesn't try to cheer him up. Not with words, anyway. She rests a hand on his arm and gives him a look that feels meaningful for some reason he can't identify yet, and then she stands and tells him not to move and for _some reason_ he listens. When she returns, she's holding chuhai and a small bowl of umeboshi, which causes him to raise a brow. "You can't judge me for liking umeboshi when you own one of the biggest nanotechnology companies in Japan and aren't funding nanomedicinal research."

He eyeballs the mikan chuhai as she slides the can toward him, shooting her a look. "I have to drive home."

"Don't tell me you're such a lightweight that you can't handle an _eight proof_ can of chuhai," she teases while reaching across the table to snap open the tab.

He shoots her a look and takes a long drink. It's a lot like soda and is sweeter than he was expecting, enough that he makes a face when he rests the can against the table. "If we're going to be drinking together, I think I deserve to know your name," he says after a minute, narrowing his eyes at her like earlier as she already empties her own can, which has cherries and sakura flowers on it.

"We're hardly drinking," she snorts in retort, but follows it up with, "My name is Haruno Sakura. I work at the clinic in the bad part of town. You know, the _Forest of Death_." She snorts again, and he finds it oddly endearing, not that he'd ever admit it. He doesn't offer her his name in return, as he knows she already knows it, and he is ashamed that what was going to be only one drink with people that are basically his co-workers becomes one drink with people that are basically his co-workers and four cans of chuhai in different flavors with Haruno Sakura, who is a total stranger to him. She laughs through stories about her childhood as though they're longtime friends and pries stories and little facts out of him that longtime friends wouldn't be able to.

He doesn't dismiss himself until she's offering him a fifth can and his phone goes off with an alarm that normally reminds him to take a break from work and begin his shift at his night job. 8:00 means that he's been here for three hours, which is approximately too long to spend with any person, let alone a pink-haired girl with a fierce attitude, too many questions, and too-tempting green eyes.

It doesn't stop her mouth from finding his when he says he has to go, and if you asked him later, he would never admit to pressing back into the kiss for a moment before pushing her away.

* * *

Night job is a light way of putting it.

It's what he tells people like Sakura in the evenings when he needs an excuse to leave, and he's grown used to the same jokes about how he doesn't need any more money. "It isn't about that," he'll say, and it isn't.

He wasn't sure what it was about for a long time. He thought it was about revenge, once. He still thinks that it's about revenge, sometimes, but it's also about much more than that; it's about much more than _him._

He calls himself Sasaukage. While a blatant pun on his real name that, fortunately, no one has put together, it also means _Supporting Shadow_ , and he has dedicated years of his life to training so he might be able to live up to that definition. Though Konoha loses the official title of Crime Capitol of the World to Gotham City in the United States, it is easily the crime capitol of Japan, and he's dedicated the last year to putting a stop to at least some of that crime.

His suit was the hardest part to get right. His father created the Uchiha Nanotechnology branch of Uchiha Industries twenty years ago when he was only six, but only lived two years afterward and did not get to see it grow. Using the branch of the company his father created, he's made a suit out of a polyvinylidene fluoride and polyvinylidene fluoride trifluoroethylene nanofiber that's tougher than Kevlar and stretches to seven times its length. On his left leg is a pouch containing stainless steel shuriken from the much older branch Uchiha Weaponry, which was founded as the first and, at the time, only branch at the end of the Ōnin War in 1477 as Uchiha No Buki, and on his right leg is another pouch containing kunai knives.

He doesn't need weapons often. He spent nine years training his martial arts (that's only counting the time after his parents' deaths) and most of his opponents are street punks in the so-called Forest of Death looking to make spare cash by mugging some defenseless person on the sidewalk. It's a matter of security though.

Though he isn't drunk, he can justifiably say that he is tipsy as he can feel the alcohol swimming through his bloodstream and can't seem to get Sakura out of his head (though he's not completely sure that's the fault of the alcohol). He is grateful for it in a strange way as he acknowledges that, though he is already naturally warm, the fire in his gut from the chuhai's combined alcohol and carbonation is a large part of what keeps him warm in the cold October air as he shifts from rooftop to rooftop before his feet have carried him to the renowned Konoha neighborhood; to the Forest of Death. He acknowledges that the suit should be insulated, and makes a mental note to work on it when he has the time. Or, more accurately, to ask Hana to work on it when she has the time, as his lead scientist.

He spends a minute perfectly still, reflecting on his parting with Sakura. While he's grown used to people making jokes about how he doesn't need any more money than what he makes from Uchiha Industries when he mentions his night job, the only response he'd gotten from Sakura was that she should be getting back to the clinic, too. He wonders if she's there now, at what must be at least eleven o'clock at night. He admittedly doesn't know her very well, but he wouldn't be surprised if the answer was yes when he considers the bags underneath her eyes and the tired smile she'd shot him when they split up.

He only just catches it out of the corner of his eye. The slightest glint, like light reflecting off of the lenses of glasses, and then everything is completely back to normal. Someone slightly less paranoid than Sasuke, or whose job wasn't to protect the entire city of Konoha during their nights, might dismiss it as simply a literal trick of the light, or else the alcohol. He knows he didn't drink that much, though, and his eyes are too sharp for an optical illusion.

He moves closer to it, and just barely catches a long shock of grey hair before it's gone, and he feels a heavy hit from behind that nearly knocks him off the rooftop. When he sorts himself out and turns, he sees a man who can't be more than ten years older than him wearing black-rimmed glasses and a dark purple, high-collared shirt that hides the bottom half of his face. Something about the man is oddly familiar, and a shudder crawls up Sasuke's spine.

Sasuke charges across the rooftop toward him, kunai already in hand. The man, whose hair was previously down, pulls it back into a ponytail just as Sasuke reaches him, clearly overconfident in his own abilities, and moves out of the way just in time for Sasuke's attack to miss. Though Sasuke can only see his eyes, black as the void and just as cold, he can feel the arrogant smirk down to his bones. He twists as the man aims a sharp jab at his arm, which would surely cause the muscles to seize up and him to drop the kunai that is still in his hand, and forces himself to close his eyes and breathe. When he opens his eyes again, the man is nowhere to be seen, and at this point he knows where he will be, pivoting on his heel to move to the side away from the assault as the man appears behind him once more. Sasuke crouches and swipes at his Achilles' tendons with the kunai, which he, in turn, jumps to avoid, and the Uchiha has to rip his hands away before they get crushed under a pair of black sandals. He stands, only to immediately be forced into a roll when a leg connects with his chest.

They fight like they are dancing, moving fluidly with one another, and Sasuke contemplates his training for a moment. _He fights just like Orochimaru_ , he observes, squinting as he catches a kick and uses his grip on the leg to throw his opponent across the roof, listening with minimal concern as there's a _crack_ against the brick wall. It only takes the fighter long enough to recover that Sasuke can move closer to him, standing across from him, and though he doesn't get up right away he does swipe a kunai at him.

He feels like the wind has been knocked out of him as he jumps back too late and feels the stinging gash across his chest. Like Kevlar, his suit is designed to be resistant to gunshots and blunt force, and they, unfortunately, share the same weakness, which is only providing minimal protection against blades. Sasuke's not as overconfident as his current opponent, but he was confident enough when designing the suit to assume he can dodge most swipes with blades. Apparently, he was wrong.

Rather than taking advantage of Sasuke's state of shock, the ashen-haired man narrows his eyes as though inspecting a faulty tool to write down what is wrong with it, and quickly takes his exit when it seems the Uchiha is recovering.

The keyword is "seems." Blood pours over his fingers from the gash when he holds his hand to the wound as though he may be able to stifle the bleeding somehow. In only a matter of seconds, his head begins to spin more than when he was simply tipsy, and it's a sign that something's wrong that it takes him a second to identify some kind of poison on the blade. He isn't sure what it is, exactly, but he's sure that it's nothing good as his hand, the glove which covers it still being soaked in metallic red, begins to go completely numb in what he can't imagine is more than a minute. He manages to straighten and take a few steps without stumbling, but to say that he's completely recovered from the blow would be an extreme overstatement.

He squints at his surroundings in a manner that may seem mistrustful while he tries to stay on his feet, his body growing increasingly heavier, and analyze what he should do. Somewhere in the back of his mind he vaguely remembers that he's in the Forest of Death, which he knows puts him unfortunately far from Kakashi's apartment. Too far. His breathing is a struggle and more and more of his body is going numb. He gives it four minutes before the muscles in his arms and legs start to seize up, and at that point trying to get much of anywhere will be completely pointless. To get to Kakashi's apartment from where he is would take fifteen if he weren't bleeding out and poisoned, and he is assuming that the silver-haired man would know how to help him at all.

_Sakura. Sakura will help._

It's a long shot, but he doesn't have many other options, so he forces himself to move in what he decides is probably the direction of her clinic. It occurs to him that he doesn't even know where it is, and he feels incredibly dumb because at least he would know where he was going if he were headed for Kakashi's apartment.

At some point on the trek, he has the very real thought that he might die in the street in the Forest of Death. More horrifying, his body might be found by a fierce, green-eyed, pink-haired doctor who will almost certainly blame herself for his idiocy.

 _Can't let that happen_ , he thinks, gritting his teeth.

By some miracle, he finds it. Of course, he can hardly walk or think, but he bursts through the door to what he somehow knows is a medical clinic and calls himself successful when he sees distinctive bubblegum hair in the back. He stumbles toward her and thinks that she's about to say _You can't be back here_ when she turns around to see him and then throws a hand over her mouth in what he is pretty sure is horror. He doesn't blame her. At this point, the suit covering his chest is slick with his blood due to how soaked it is and the flesh around the gash is hot enough that he feels the warmth radiating from it onto his face. "Sa... kura..." He mumbles as he lets himself collapse into her arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so some characters here have surnames that they obviously don't have in the show. In real life, you don't really have people without surnames anymore, so I used some that made sense based on the etymology of the characters' given names, as well as some of my headcanons/some decently popular headcanons in general. (Looking at you, Orochimaru, who was straight ripped from _Jiraiya Goketsu Monogatari_.) Also, there's a bit of an exposition dump here. Sorry, I guess? I liked the information though, and felt it was important, so not that sorry.


End file.
